Archangel
by Zarthor563
Summary: Max Russo was always outshone by his older siblings. That changed when the angel Castiel recruited him to help recover a cache of weapons stolen from Heaven. He joins the Winchesters on the hunt, all the while marching towards a grander destiny...
1. Max Russo, Hunter

**There aren't that many stories about Max out there, which I find disappointing. I've had this idea for a while now, and it won't leave me alone till I write it. So here it is.**

**Give Credit where credit is Due: there was a line in Tsukino Akume's "When Light Fades" that stayed with me, so I used it here.  
**

**For those who are wondering, this takes place during the "All about You-niverse" episode of WOWP, and incorporates elements of my other story, "The Enchanted Mirror", and the third episode of the current season of Supernatural. Please Review.**

**_Synopsis: Max Russo has always been overshadowed by his older brother and sister. That all changes when he is recruited by the archangel Castiel to help recover a cache of weapons that were stolen from Heaven. He joins the Winchesters on the hunt, all the while marching towards a grander destiny... _**

* * *

Max Russo was thrown backwards by the explosion. He twisted in mid-air, angling himself so as to land on his feet, spraining his ankle in the process.

_That's what I get for igniting the kerosene,_ he thought darkly. Still, beheading and burning _are_ the best ways to end vampyres.

Max vaulted forward as another leech tackled him from behind. Something snapped beneath his foot. He looked down to see his splintered wand. But he didn't panic; in fact, he barely gave the wand a passing glance. He carried it now only out of habit.

Max had learned to channel his magic without it a long time ago.

He was surrounded. Trapped by the ring of flames, there was nowhere for the vamps to go. One of them charged forward. Max dodged him easily, and watched as the leech's momentum sent him straight into the flames.

He cried out in pain as he felt fangs pierce his skin. He backhanded the offending vamp so hard it sent him sprawling into the fire.

Max was getting tired, and grew more and more liable to screw up. Where the hell was his back-up?

So they were trying to prevent total anarchy and chaos as Heaven warred with itself and the Fallen of Hell ran rampant. Big whoop. So was he; some consideration would be appreciated.

Max stepped through the flames and out onto the other side untouched. A few months ago, he would have vocalized his intention as he invoked his magic, something along the lines of _" fire sprung from magic's wealth, let me pass with all my health." _But he was different now, he knew better: fanfare had no place in war. True spells were recited in Latin anyway.

He watched as the ring of fire became smaller, engulfing the vampyres within until they smoldered into ash. It was then that he noticed a burning sensation in his left hand; there was a small crescent mark where the vamp had bitten him.

Max sighed. He would have to let Sam work his mojo on it.

_Things would have gone a lot smoother if I'd had help, _he thought. _Angel or not, I'm going to kill Castiel the next time I see him._


	2. Flashback

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* * *

__One Year Ago:_

Max had been trapped in Alex's room for a month. After his latest prank, she'd turned him miniscule and forced him to live in a mouse hole, which was guarded by a phantom cat she'd conjured. It had been a dreary existence: fending off cockroaches, scavenging from Casper's food bowl, at one point point he'd almost been digested! Somehow though, he'd made it through.

One day, he was out scavenging when suddenly, he realized he was full size again.

"Max Russo," a voice behind him had said. Max turned to find a stranger before him. He had blue eyes. He wore a beige trench coat,a white, collared shirt and a blue tie.

Max raised his wand at the intruder, vaguely recalling that he hadn't had it before, he'd misplaced it.

"You won't be needing that," the man said. And before he knew it, Max's wand was out of his hand, and in _his_. The guy hadn't even _moved_.

"Who are you? Max asked. "Are you a wizard?"

"My name is Castiel," the man replied. "And I need your help."

"With what?"

"Very recently, a cache of very powerful weapons was stolen from Heaven. One of those weapons, the Staff of Moses, is being used to murder people. I need you to help me find it."

Max hadn't known how to respond. For one thing, for whatever reason, this guy wanted his help. _His._ He was talking to the wrong Russo. And secondly, did he just say that weapons were stolen...from _Heaven_?

"We need to leave," Castiel said. "Now." He began to approach Max, just as Justin entered the room.

Noticing the stranger, Justin immediately went for his wand. Castiel walked over to him, briefly touched his forehead, and Max watched in horror as his brother collapsed.

"What did you do?"

"He's fine. He will wake up later with a minor headache."

Castiel roughly grabbed Max's arm.

"Let go!" Max exclaimed as he struggled.

Then Max noticed that he wasn't in Alex's room anymore; he was in a motel room. There were two men there, each staring at him and his kidnapper in shock.

"Are you kidding me?" The one with the short hair said. "Cass, he looks like he came out of the _Brady Bunch_! And what's with the cape!"

"Dean, you _like _the _Brady Bunch,"_ the other said.

"Shut up, Sam," Dean retorted. He looked back at Castiel. "This kid is supposed to help us?"

"He'll do what is required," Castiel replied.

"Hold on a second here!" Max yelled. There was too much he didn't understand.

He looked at the two men in suits. "Who are you people?"

The one with the skater hair answered, "I'm Sam, and that's Dean. We hunt demons."

Max nodded, taking that at face value. Wasn't his own brother a monster-hunter? He turned to Castiel.

"You already told me who you are, but I don't know _what_ you are; even wizards can't do what you can."

Castiel looked at Max, and said very solemnly: "I am an Angel of the Lord."

_

* * *

__The Present_

Max smiled as the memories hit him. Was it really only a year since Cass had recruited him? It felt longer.

He learned a lot that day. About their fight against Lucifer and the averted apocalypse. How Heaven, in God's absence was torn apart by civil war. How Sam and Dean and a handful of others fought _every day_ to keep the world safe. It shocked him, that the world had been on the brink of death so many times,_ and no one knew_. How each time, the tide was turned back by a group of rag-tag soldiers, who spent their _lives_ keeping everyone else safe.

In mere hours, Max had come to respect Sam and Dean Winchester, and those like them.

He learned why they needed his help, at which point, he'd asked, "Why me? Why not Justin? He's smarter than I am, and he has more experience with this sort of thing."

It was Castiel who'd answered, "Your brother has enough problems; he does not need another." To this day, Max still doesn't know what Cass meant.

They'd gone on their first hunt together not long after that, and manged to successfully acquire the first piece of the Staff of Moses.

A year had passed since then, and they had yet to acquire the second piece, or any of the other weapons that had been stolen. Balthazar had covered his tracks well.

Well, that and the fact that they kept getting side-tracked. Recovering the weapons was important, but so was hunting. And then there was hunter loyalty, like the time he, Sam, and Dean helped Bobby get his soul back.

Max hissed as he dipped his hand in a basin of holy water. His hand warmed as the water did its work, slowing the venom's progress.

He looked at the crescent mark, another scar for his growing collection. It had been a long year, and it was times like this he wished he could go home.

But he had a bit of home here,too. The way Max figured it, Sam was like Justin: smart, dedicated, and determined, if not just the _tinniest_ bit anti-social lately. And Dean was like Alex, impulsive to the extreme, and like him too; not exactly intelligent, but not too stupid, either. In the year he'd known them, they'd become family. Cass, too. Although, _he_ was still a mystery to Max.

Besides, he couldn't go home yet, not until the job was done, until the weapons Balthazar stole were safely in Heaven again, or wherever Cass intended to hide them.

He wondered where Cass was. Not in Heaven, that was sure. While Raphael no longer had a vessel, he wasn't dead, and he still had soldiers at his command. Castiel wasn't going home anytime soon.

_And neither am I,_ Max thought with a sigh as the door opened, his new brothers come to rest for the night.


	3. Chuck

Max woke to a stinging sensation. He fingered his left hand absently. It was bandaged now; Sam had successfully treated the bite last night.

He rubbed his eyes, ridding himself of the last vestiges of sleep...and opened them to find Castiel in the middle of the motel room, staring at him. Seeing the angel had brought back the memories of last night.

"Where the hell were you?" Max demanded angrily, waking Dean. "You were supposed to be backing me up while Sam and Dean took care of the other coven!"

Max almost never hunted with Sam and Dean. It was a bit hard to sell the whole "we're federal agents" bit with a kid in tow, so Max usually paired up with Cass. He'd always been reliable...until yesterday.

Castiel, for his part, ignored Max's outburst. "Get up," he told the other two.

Dean groaned. "What for, Cass?"

"I found a lead," he replied simply.

"You found the second piece of the staff?" Dean asked as he got dressed.

"No. There have been no deaths that can be attributed to the staff's power; whoever has it hasn't been using it."

"So we still don't know where it is?" Dean asked irritably. "Great."

"I don't know where the second piece is, but I _do_ know someone who can help us find another one of the stolen weapons."

"That's something I guess," Sam said, ever the peacekeeper. "So where is this guy?"

Castiel took them all by the arm and did his teleportation thing.

"You have _got_ to be shitting me," Dean said.

Max smiled as he read the sign that bore the words,

_Supernatural Convention_

_2010_

He'd always wanted to meet Chuck.

* * *

Dressed in a white shirt and blue jeans, Chuck Shurley looked nothing like the way Max had envisioned a prophet would look like. He was surprisingly...ordinary. He was seated at a table, signing books and answering the occasional question from devoted fans. He looked up and, noticing the four of them, excused himself.

"Hey, guys, Max," he said by way of greeting. Max was about to ask how he knew his name when they'd never met, but managed to stop himself.

_He can see the future, dummy. Of course he knows who you are. He knows what you will **be**._

Max had grown out of his "stupid" faze, but sometimes his mind still acted on its own.

"We need to talk," Castiel said. "Privately."

"Oh, hey Chuck!" he responded sarcastically. "It's good to see you again, how are you?"

He was met by three blank stares. Max stifled a laugh.

Chuck sighed. "This way," he said, and began walking. They passed a parking lot filled to the brim with Impalas, though there were a _few_ Dodge Chargers. But not many.

Chuck led them into his room, locked the door, and asked, "What's up?"

"The Spear of Longinus," Castiel responded. "Talk."

"Hold on a second," Sam said before Chuck could begin. "Balthazar stole the Spear of Longinus? Why? I mean, the guy's an angel; he wouldn't need it."

"He didn't steal it for himself," Castiel supplied.

"He sold it," Chuck said.

"Hold it," Max said. "Will somebody _please_ explain to me what the Spear of Longinus actually _is_?"

"I second that motion!" Dean exclaimed, raising his hand.

"The Spear of Longinus was the lance used to pierce Jesus' side while he was on the cross," Sam explained. "It has many names: the Spear of Destiny, the Holy Lance, and some have even gone as far to call it the Spear of Christ."

"What can the spear do?" Max asked.

"There isn't much lore on the subject, but from what I've been able to find, whoever is in possession of the spear can't be beaten in battle. Supposedly, that was why Hitler sought the spear during World War II. And apparently, if someone ever happens to lose the spear, they die."

"They _die?"_ Dean repeated. "What, they set the damn thing down and just up and croak?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't even know the spear was in Heaven. There are three possible lances that _could _be the real thing: one at the Vatican, one in Nuremberg, and another in Armenia-"

"All fakes," Castiel cut in. "The true Spear of Longinus hasn't been seen on earth since the Crusades, when Baldwin IV defeated Saladin at the Battle of Montgisard."

Castiel's head jerked suddenly. He stood still for a moment, his eyes narrowing.

"I have to go," he said. Then he was gone.

"I hate it when he does that," Dean said to no one in particular.

_You're not the only one, _Max thought sourly.

* * *

Max listened idly as Sam and Dean worked up a plan. He knew they wouldn't need him until the very end, for the actual battle. They usually did all the preliminary stuff on their own. If he were a little older, he could go with them.

But he wasn't. So he didn't.

He sighed as they left, Dean promising to have Cass come and get him when they needed him.

"It bothers you, doesn't it?" Chuck asked. "That you can't go with them."

"A little," Max admitted. "I get that I'm too young to pass for some of the things they pretend to be, so there are parts of the mission I can't take part in.

"But I fight just as hard as they do. I've even saved their lives from time to time. I thought that would've at least earned me the right to wait in the car while they do their thing. Still, they leave me behind. My family notwithstanding, Sam and Dean are all I have. And every time they leave me behind... it hurts; I feel like they don't _want_ me. And don't even get me _started_ on Cass."

Chuck just stared at him.

"I know it's stupid-"

"I thought you knew," Chuck said softly.

"Knew what?" Max asked.

"Sam just got back from _Hell_, Max," Chuck told him. "He's bound to have a few issues. His awkwardness around people just happens to be one of them. Dean's worried because he's afraid he's losing his brother."

Max didn't know how to respond to that. All he could manage was an "Oh."

"Most of the time, you _are_ an afterthought. But it's not because they don't care; they're just wrapped up in their own issues. And Cass...he's protecting your family."

"What?" That was news to him.

"Where do you think he went just now? They know who you are, Max: the angels, the demons..._everyone_, Max."

"He never said anything..."

Chuck smiled. "Castiel isn't exactly the emotional type. Some have even gone as far as to say that angels don't feel." Chuck's smile got bigger. "But I know better."

"I'm just tired, Chuck. Of all of it. I really wish I could go home."

"I know, Max." Chuck put a hand on his shoulder in consolation. "Trust me when I say that it will all be over soon enough."

"Guess I'll have to, since it's coming from _you._"

Chuck laughed. "I hope you get to see Heaven one day, Max, when things have died down a bit; _they could use someone like you."_

Max looked down at the floor, and snorted silently. "Right. I highly doubt that." He looked up again, but Chuck was gone.


	4. Brother, Where Art Thou?

**Archangel trailer is up on youtube, the link is on my profile. **

**Please review.**

* * *

Max heaved himself onto the bed with a sigh. It was now official: he hated angels, Castiel being first and foremost.

The four of them had been at a loss; the demons were in possession of the Spear of Longinus. How could they defeat an enemy equipped with a weapon that made him invincible?

And to top it all off, Raphael's goons showed up mid-fight.

It was Max who came through. He was the one who thought to use magic to swipe the Spear from the demons, who spontaneously combusted after losing possession of it, leaving entrails everywhere.

"Yeah, that's right!" Dean gloated at the remains. "Don't mess with ma' man-witch!"

Max had smiled in spite of himself. He'd asked Dean countless times to call him "wizard," but Dean just said "Man-witch is funnier."

So Max Russo, wizard (man-witch), stood against the angels with Spear in hand.

One of them was stupid enough to attack; he died with Castiel's blade in his chest. The rest of them were smart enough to realize they could not win when the Spear was on the other side and backed off.

They arrive at the motel...and Cass decides to dump them with the Spear.

"You're kidding, right?" Sam had asked.

"The Spear is not safe in Heaven," the angel had responded. "I must find a suitable hiding place here on Earth. He seemed to think about something for a second, then gave a rare smile.

"Don't lose it." he said, and then he was gone.

_Bastard._

* * *

Max shook his head, trying to clear it of his strange dream; it was the third night in a row that he hadn't been able to sleep. If he only knew what the dream could _mean_...

"Dream again?" Sam asked, handing Max a cup. Max raised an eyebrow.

"It's something I cooked up the other night," Sam explained. "It should induce a dreamless sleep."

Max smiled groggily; Sam didn't sleep anymore, and he'd needed to do _something_ with the extra time, so Max lent him one his old potions books.

He needed no further encouragement; he downed the silver liquid in one gulp.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "That bad?"

"You have no idea," was Max's reply.

There was a moment of silence, then, "You wanna talk?"

And there it was again. How could Sam be soulless, truly soulless, if he could still be empathetic? Or did he merely _remember_ what it was like to be so? Max knew Sam felt. He was angry at his grandfather, Samuel, when he found out that he had been taking orders from Crowley, that he had known his grandson had been returned to life incomplete.

He had been angry enough to want to shoot his grandfather. Angry, because he'd believed Samuel to have gone against family loyalty by keeping so many secrets.

Maybe a soul wasn't needed to feel; maybe it was only needed to _judge._ Judge what is right from wrong. Sam hadn't understood why Dean let Samuel go, why he refused to kill him.

But when faced with the decision to leave, hunt on his own, he chose to stay. He chose _family_. That had been a little over a year ago now.

Maybe soulless...wasn't the same thing as heartless. It hurt Max's head if he thought about it too much. In the end, he'd come to a decision: Soul or no soul, at his core, Sam was Sam. And that meant he could trust him.

Regardless, Max figured he would keeps his dream to himself, at least until he could figure out what it meant.

"Thanks, but no," Max replied. He gestured towards the book in Sam's lap. "Learn anything?"

"A lot of these spells are pretty basic Max," Sam replied. "I mean the incantations are in _English_, and they _rhyme_, for crying out loud."

It was Max's turn to raise an eyebrow. "So that's a no?"

Sam stared at him for a good ten seconds, then said, "Yeah, that's a no."

Max couldn't help but laugh at that. Softly of course, so he wouldn't wake Dean. Sam laughed too.

"So when is this potion of yours supposed to kick in?"

"Ten more minutes, give or take."

Suddenly Max felt himself being yanked out of his bed, and found himself face to face with Castiel.

"What the hell, Cass!"

Castiel, for his part, made no reply. Instead, he grabbed Sam.

Max blinked, and they were at his house in Waverly Place.

What was left of it.

The sandwich shop was was blown apart, and there was shattered glass everywhere. The building itself was in flames.

There were five vessels standing amidst the flames. Max knew they were vessels, because their eyes were coal black, which told him something else: these were demons, not angels; his blade wouldn't do any good here.

His family. He had to get to his family! Where were they? Where were his mom and dad, and Justin and Alex!

Max couldn't bring himself to move. In that tiny, analytical part of his mind that had developed over countless hunting missions, Max knew he had frozen. His family was in danger. He was in a position to help them. _And he had frozen._

"Max!" Sam's voice brought him back to reality. Cloaking himself in his magic, Max leapt into the flames.

Castiel had already taken down one of the demons, and Sam was battling another. That left three more, one for he and Cass and Sam each, which was fine by him.

The demon charged, snarling. Max sidestepped his charge easily. The demon came at him again, fist raised. Max blocked, and brought his own fist to bear in an uppercut that sent the Hell-spawn sprawling.

"Knife!" Max yelled. Sam threw him his knife: it was covered in runes, and the blade was lined with

teeth.

Max caught the knife and plunged it into the demon's chest. The demon howled in rage; black mist hurled from the vessel's mouth as the demon died.

"Max?" a voice called. Max stiffened. He _knew _that voice. He whirled around to see his brother, Justin, decked out in his monster hunter gear, staring at him in surprise and... was that a hint of pride in his brother's eyes?

"Watch out!" Sam yelled. Max watched in horror as one of the demons approached his brother, who, Max had noticed, was wand less... and prepared to deal a fatal blow...just as Sam pushed him out of the way.

"Sam!" Max yelled as the man he had come to regard as a brother was struck down. Max ran to him.

The demon went down as Castiel struck it from behind.

"He's hurt bad," Justin said, examining Sam's wounds. "We need to get him down to the cellar; that's where I left the others."

"Go," Max told his brother. "I'll cover you."

"What!" Justin exclaimed. "Are you crazy! I'm not leaving you alone!"

Max grabbed Justin by his vest, and the latter gasped, surprised by his younger brother's strength.

"You don't have a wand anymore," Max said. "And I'm willing to bet that when you _did_ have a wand, not one of your spells had any effect."

"How did you-"

"Are there any more than the five we saw?"

"Seven in total," Justin replied. "I don't know where the other two went."

Max digested that, then asked. "Why isn't Alex fighting with you? There's no way she would let you do this on your own."

"She _was _fighting with me. She was hurt."

The color drained from Max's face. "Go," he repeated. I'll cover you."

"How the-" Justin cut himself off as he saw Max slay another demon with ease.

"Go!" Max yelled. He looked around for Castiel, so he could heal Sam, but he wasn't there.

The cellar had been magically cordoned off from the rest of the building, protecting it from the fire.

"I don't have a wand anymore," Justin despaired, sagging under Sam's weight.

Max snapped his fingers, and the barrier disappeared. Justin stared at his brother.

"Get inside," Max ordered, tightening his grip on Sam's knife.

Castiel was there, the two remaining demons disposed of, and Alex was as good as new. She and Justin embraced, while Theresa ran to her youngest child.

"Mijo!" she exclaimed, squeezing the life out of Max. Then she slapped him. "Where have you been!"

Max ignored her. Instead, he looked to Castiel. "We need to leave." Max grabbed his brother, and instructed the others to form a chain as he grabbed Castiel.

They were back in the motel room, and Dean was awake.

"What the hell?" he looks over at Max. "I'm asleep fro all of five minutes, and you decide to have a family reunion?" He shut up when he saw Sam.

"What happened?"

"Demons," Castiel explained simply. The angel layed Sam on his bed, and healed his wounds. "I've placed your brother into a meditative state. His mind suffered backlash from the demon's attack: he won't wake until he has fully healed."

"He'll be fine," Max said, as Dean was about to speak again.

Max's parents seemed to be about to say something before Castiel knocked them out...and jogged Justin's memory.

"It was you!" he exclaimed, pointing. "You were the one who took Max! You did that Jedi mind trick thing when I tried to stop you!"

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Kidnapping, Cass?" he asked. "Really?"

"I did not have the luxury of time," the angel replied. "I was, and still am, in the middle of a civil war."

"Chill, Justin," Max said, as his brother was about to say something else. "Cass is a friend."

"But what is he?" Alex asked. "No wizard can do what he just did; we must must be miles away from Waverly Place."

"Try a few _states_ away from Waverly Place," Max said dryly.

Alex's eyes widened. "What are you?" she asked again.

Castiel looked at her, and said very solemnly, "I am an Angel of the Lord."

And then he was gone.

"Waaiiit," Justin said. "Did he just say _angel?_ As in, an _angel_, angel?"

Max looked at Dean, then gestured over to his unconscious parents. "And they think _I'm_ the dumb one."

* * *

"So angels and demons are real, Heaven and Hell exist, and those guys..." Justin said after everything had been explained and Dean had gone back to bed and Alex had fallen asleep. "...they hunt demons?"

"Yep."

"And the angel, Castiel, recruited you to help them find weapons that _another_ angel stole out of Heaven?"

"Yep."

"And you've been helping them for the past year?"

"Yep."

"Wow."

"Yep."

Castiel appeared. "The shop and the building have been restored to their previous condition. I'm going to take your family back now. Your parents will not remember anything when they awake."

Max nodded. "Thanks, Cass. For everything." Castiel stared for a moment, then nodded.

"Alex and I want to stay." Max looked at his brother.

"There's no way we're letting you do this on your own," he said with a smile.

Castiel seemed to think for a minute, then said, "As you wish."

"I can take care of myself, you know," Max said when the angel had gone. "I've been doing it for over a year now."

"And I barely recognize you." Max raised an eyebrow.

"You kill demons as easily as I can recite the theory of quantum mechanics. You don't use your wand to channel your magic anymore, and you got through my barrier, something that took weeks to perfect and enormous amounts of strength and concentration to cast like it was nothing.

"What happened to the Max who was failing English, who was always misplacing his wand? What happened to the Max that used to live in a pumpkin?"

"If you pretend to be something long enough, eventually, it's all you _can _be," Max said. "You're all kinds of genius, Justin, and so is Alex. Granted, hers is a _different_ kind of genius."

Justin smiled at that.

Max spoke more softly now. "The two of you took up all of mom and dad's attention, the genius child and the troublemaker, _always._ Do you have any idea what it's like to live in your shadow, to always be the afterthought? To be the child who's only deserving of attention when he's done something wrong, or something spectacularly stupid?

"I was alone. So I started acting out, doing things to get mom and dad to notice me. And it worked. But always only for a short time, and then they would gravitate to the two of you again. So I did more things. And more things. Until eventually, I forgot how to live any other way, and I accepted it. Accepted that I was destined to always be the one who failed.

"You knew the mask I wore Justin, the person I presented. But none of you ever knew_ me."_ With that, Max made his way over to Sam's bed, crawled in next to his brother, and fell into a dreamless sleep.


	5. Death By Dean

**Hurray for no more finals! Please Review.**

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* * *

**_Panting and gasping for breath, Max ran. He didn't know where he was going, he just knew he had to get as far away from here as possible, as far away from **him **as possible. Max knew that if he couldn't get away, he would never be himself again; everything he was would die._

_But he had no idea where was! He was in a maze of some kind, where every twist and every turn led to another wall, to another dead end. The walls around him bore engraved symbols in Latin, Aramaic, and Babylonian, though how Max knew that, he had no idea._

_There was a flutter of wings, and Max knew that **he** was gaining ground._

_The path before him became impassable as it was engulfed with Soulfyre, but it took little effort on Max's part to cloak himself with magic and pass through it._

_The door was before him now, the exit to this maze he was in. It opened, revealing the light it held beyond._

_Max stepped through, victorious and free..._

_...And then **he** was there. Standing in the doorway._

_He was dressed casually enough. Black pants with a a black t-shirt, the blade of an archangel strapped to his wrist, glinting in the sun as the runes pulsed. His face was hidden._

"_You can't fight this, Max," he said. "You can't fight destiny." He stepped out of the doorway, into the light..._

_...And Max stood face to face with himself, just before the Soulfyre engulfed him, broke through his barriers, and consumed him. _

Max woke with a start, jumping up, causing Alex to jump backwards.

"You're finally awake," she said. "We were getting worried." Max raised an eyebrow at that, then noticed Justin standing over in the corner.

"I'm fine," Max said.

"You've woken up screaming every night for the past week," Justin pointed out. "And that's just since we've been here. You are nowhere _near_ fine."

Max stared at Justin. "For the past year now, I've fought against demons, angels, pagan gods, friggin _fairies_, and hundreds of other things besides. All of them have tried to kill me...and you're surprised I have nightmares?"

They didn't need to know how long this particular dream had been haunting him, how it scared the hell out of him.

Justin said nothing.

"Dean doesn't have nightmares," Alex said softly. "Not as often, and definitely not as strong as you do."

"You two have been here a week, and have barely said a word to my brother. Now you think you know him?"

Justin scowled at that. "Max,_ we're_ your family."

"So are they," Max said, gesturing over to Sam's unconscious form. "Dean represses the things he doesn't like; I'm not as as lucky."

Justin looked like he was about to say something else, but was interrupted by upraised voices.

Max pinched his nose in exasperation. "What are they arguing about _now_?" he wondered aloud.

"Same argument as always, I think," Alex said as there was a lull in the shouting.

Max grunted. "Cass has the patience of a saint."

He opened the door to go to the living area, and looked back at Sam. "If anything changes..."

"We'll let you know," Alex said. Max closed the door.

"I don't think this idea is wise," Castiel said, as calm as ever.

Well, he _looked_ as calm as ever. Max could never tell with Cass. He remembered that night in Crowley's warehouse. He'd killed the demon without a second thought. There had been no emotion, no indication of the anger he undoubtedly felt at Crowley's deception, at the fact that the demon had been stringing them along from the start: he couldn't retrieve Sam's soul from the cage.

Castiel had a great respect for all forms of life, and violence of any form always left him feeling uncomfortable.

And yet he'd killed Crowley, the all powerful King of Hell, in a matter of seconds, without any warning, wearing that same calm, passive expression he bore now.

"You don't think _any_ of my ideas are 'wise ideas,'" Dean argued back.

"And when have I ever been wrong about that?"

Dean was silent for a moment, considering. "That's besides the point, Cass! Sam needs his soul."

"And I've told you, putting that thing back in Sam would destroy him. Even if he agreed to get Sam's soul for you, which I doubt he will, but even if he did, there's no guarantee Sam would survive. You're not doing him any favors here, Dean."

"I'll be the judge of that," Dean said. "Max, let's go."

"Come again?" Max asked.

"We've got places to be."

"Gimme a sec." Max went back to the bedrooms.

"Dean and I are leaving," he told Justin and Alex. "Look after Sam."

"Where are you going?" Justin asked. Max ignored him.

"Hey!" Justin exclaimed. Max came back into the room, eyebrow raised.

"What are we supposed to do with that thing?" he asked, gesturing over to the Spear of Longinus.

Max thought for a moment, smiled and said, "Don't lose it." Then he left.

Justin looked at his sister and asked, "Is it just me, or do you feel disowned too?"

* * *

The car ride was silent. Max wasn't in any hurry; if Dean was going to open up, he'd do it on his own time. He was excited, this was the first time he and Dean were going on a mission together. At the moment, Max was listening to his Ipod, cycling through his playlists, trying to find some decent music; he couldn't _believe_ half the crap he had put on there. What the hell was "Nugget Man?"

The car stopped. Max waited.

Dean looked at Max for a moment, then grabbed his Ipod. "You're listening to Power Rangers theme music?"

"You know you love it."

"You are by far the weirdest person I've ever met."

"Said the modern-day Lazarus."

"Man-witch."

"Meat-suit."

Silence... then, a sigh.

"I think I found a way to get Sammy his soul back."

"A way Castiel doesn't like," Max mused. "Which means it's really, really stupid. Like, _my_ level of stupid."

"You're not stupid," Dean said quickly, almost defensively.

Max smiled. "You know what I mean."

Dean grunted. "Yeah,well, stupid gets the job done. Max, I need you to promise me something."

"What?"

"I'm about to do something really dangerous. I want you to promise that no matter what happens, you won't interfere. No going for help, no hocus-pocus: let whatever happens...happen, got that?"

Max thought about that for a second, then nodded. "Okay." He looked out the window for the first time. "There's a Chinatown here?"

"There are Chinatowns everywhere."

"Huh," Max said. "Pineapple?" he asked, offering Dean a slice.

Dean stared at Max, then the pineapple. Then Max. Then the pineapple again.

"Weirdest...kid...ever," he said, then got out of the car.

"What?" Max demanded.

They enter the Asian grocery store and are told to go all the way to the back, where they are greeted by some kind of doctor. By now Max was curious enough to wonder what Dean was up to. Dean gives Dr. Roberts a letter addressed to Ben.

"You planning on dying anytime soon?" Max asked. Dean ignored him.

"You have three minutes," Dr. Roberts said as his assistant hooked Dean up to some machines.

_Three minutes to do what?_ Max wondered.

His silent question was answered when the doctor injected something into Dean's arm...and he flatlined.

_What the hell..._

Dean was dead, and the doctor was just standing there! Then he noticed that the assistant, Eva, was holding a stopwatch; she was timing something. The doctor had said Dean would have three minutes...had he done this on purpose? For what?

Whatever the reason, there wasn't much Max could do but wait.

Three minutes...four..five and a half.

Dr. Roberts was getting the paddles ready.

_Damn it, _Max thought. He promised Dean he wouldn't interfere. He didn't say he couldn't check up on him. He wracked his brain, trying to remember the spell, he knew he'd seen it somewhere. He'd never tried it before because the invocation was in Latin, but now was as good a time as any.

After finally remembering, he recited the incantation. Max watched as his body fell to the ground. The other two hadn't noticed, intent on bringing Dean back from the brink. He went back into the store.

As he searched, he couldn't help but wonder what Justin would say if he ever found out his little brother was capable of projection.

He found them eventually: Dean, an old man, and a brunette he'd never seen before. A Reaper, judging by her aura. So that meant that the old man was...could that really be _Death_? What happened to the scythe and the robe and the skeletal countenance?

He had to stop watching cartoons, otherwise the real world would never stop being a disappointment.

It seemed like Dean and Death were arguing.

"What do you think the soul is, Dean?" Death asked, exasperated. "Do you think the soul is some pie you can slice? The soul can be bludgeoned, tortured even, but _never_ broken, not even by _me_."

"There's gotta be something," Dean insisted.

Maybe," Death said. "I can't erase Sam's hell, but I can put it behind...a wall, if you will."

"A wall?" Dean asked.

"In his mind," Death clarified. "A dam to hold back the tide, keep the memories cordoned away."

_Wait a second,_ Max thought. _Is Death actually offering to retrieve Sam's soul? But Death doesn't break the rules..._

_At least, that's what Cass seems to think,_ Max thought, remembering the argument from earlier. This had to be Dean's idea.

"It's not permanent," the brunette said.

"Tessa's right," Death confirmed.

"So that's the choice?" Dean asked. "Sam with no soul, or Sam with some drywall that if or when it collapses, he's done?"

Death nodded.

"Do it," Dean said.

"On one condition," Death said.

"What?"

"Put the ring on: be me for one day. Take the ring off before twenty-fours are up, and there will be no soul for Sam, understand?"

"Yes, but why?"

"Simple, Dean, because-" But Dean never heard Death's answer, nor did Max, because at that moment Dean disappeared, and Max went back to Dr. Roberts.

"You couldn't give me five more seconds?" Max heard Dean ask as he returned to his body.

"You were gone for seven minutes," the doctor replied. "I thought Death had you by the twins."

The car ride back was silent, until-

"For the record, I think this is stupid idea, and I've done some stupid things in my time."

"You were listening?" Dean asked.

"I was there."

Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Wizard, remember?"

"Yeah, well, stupid gets the job done." They said nothing else on the subject.

Justin and Alex were waiting for them when they got to the hotel.

"What's up?" Max asked.

Alex was smiling. "Sam's awake."

* * *

"Are you crazy!" Sam yelled as Bobby rolled his eyes; they'd gone to his house after leaving the hotel. "I remember what Crowley said! Putting that thing back in me would turn me into jello, Dean! Into a vegetable!"

Sam turned to Max. "Max," he pleaded. "Help me out here, man."

Max sighed. He _hated_ when they made him pick sides.

"I already told him this was a stupid idea," Max said. "As for your soul... the three of you already know where I stand on that subject."

It was true. The subject was a sore one, which they had constantly debated. Dean was all for getting his brother's soul back, and Sam had been too, before they'd found out that it was being tortured by Lucifer and Michael, and might destroy him if it ever got back into his body. Bobby was with Dean, naturally.

Max was of a different opinion. Max believed that even without his soul, Sam was, at his core, still Sam. Still good. Last week had strengthened that opinion: would Sam have acted as he did if he were evil, if he wasn't Sam anymore? Would he still have saved Justin, taking the blow that had been meant for him? The soul was nothing more than a moral compass that helped you decide right from wrong. The soul is an essence that _adds_ to your humanity: it was a person's heart that actually _made_ them human.

"See?" Sam asked, feeling triumphant. "Even the wizard thinks this is bad. When angels, demons, and wizards all agree on something, I think we should listen."

"Look," Dean said. "Death said that he can put up a wall-"

"A wall?" Sam asked, incredulous. He looked to Max for confirmation, who just nodded.

"Yes, a wall," Dean replied. "Basically, it would stop you from remembering Hell."

"Completely? Like a cure?"

Dean sighed. "Not really. He said it could last a life time."

"You're playing pretty fast and loose with my life here, Dean."

"I'm trying to _save_ your life!"

Max walked into Bobby's kitchen, motioning for Justin and Alex to follow him.

"I want you guys to look after Sam while Dean and I are gone," Max said.

"Why does Sam need watching?" Justin asked. "He's awake now."

"Sam's soul has been in hell for two years now. In all that time, Michael and Lucifer have been torturing it, angry at Sam for throwing them into the cage and stopping the Apocalypse. Sam knows that if it gets back into him, it could destroy him."

"Alex started, "But Dean said-"

"Death's solution is a temporary one," Max said. "And it's a risk I _know_ Sam doesn't want to take. Guys, please. I'm asking you, as a brother."

"Why are you Helping Dean if you don't agree with what he's doing?" Alex asked

Max shrugged. "It means a lot to him."

Justin stared at Max for moment, then asked, "They really mean that much to you?"

"I know it weirds you out, but Sam and Dean have been my only family for a year now. I love them as I much as I love the two of you."

Justin stared some more, then finally nodded, and smiled. "I'm going to have to get used to you being all grown up."

"Nah," Max said, also smiling. "It's just the job. Once my part in this is done, it's back to the good life: raiding the fridge, reading comic books, video games, and slacking off homework."

"But no more acting out," Justin said, remembering their conversation from a few nights ago.

"I make no promises." They all smiled at that.

"Where are you and Dean going?" Alex asked.

"Death isn't doing this for free. He wants Dean to play Grim Reaper for a day. I'm going so I can make sure he doesn't do something monumentally moronic."

"That _is_ your area of expertise." They smiled again.

"I'll see you guys when I get back," Max said, hugging each of them.

He went back into the living room.

"Ready?" Dean asked.

"Give me a second," Max replied as he lay down on the couch.

He gave Dean a stiff nod, and recited the spell as as Dean slipped on the ring. They teleported to their first destination together.

Max listened as Tessa explained the rules: for the next twenty-four hours, she would guide them to people whose time had come. Dean would touch them, bringing Death into their lives, and Tessa would reap the souls, guiding them to their final destination. It sounded simple enough. Did he really need to be here for this? He looked over at Dean.

Yes, he did.

They enter a grocery store. It's being robbed. Dean wants to know who he has to take, and Tessa tells him to be patient, to let the scene play out. The man behind the register takes a revolver from the drawer and shoots the would be thief.

Dean takes him, and when he asks why he had to die, Dean replies, "Mostly because you're a dick."

And they move on.

Some fat guy dies of a heart attack after eating a pizza, and Max tries not to laugh at Dean's pathetic attempt to explain the meaning of life.

"A Kansas song! The man cried out in despair. "That's it!"

"Sorry about that," Tessa said as she led him away. "He's new."

_That_ was when Max laughed.

They arrive arrive at a hospital. Max figured they were here to take some one old, who lived their life.

He was wrong.

"What is she, thirteen?" He heard Dean ask. He didn't want to take her.

"Twelve," Tessa replied.

He and Tessa begin to argue.

"She just a little girl."

"With a serious heart condition. You have to take her, Dean: it's destiny."

That got Max's attention.

_You can't fight this Max, you can't fight destiny."_

"There is no destiny," Dean argued back.

"So all the times you've messed with life and death, they've just worked out for you?"

"Dean," Max said before he could retort back. "I think you need to do this."

"So you're on her side now?"

"No, but...the universe has rules, Dean. Rules even wizards don't mess with. If you break this one..."

"You should listen to your friend," Tessa said, but Dean shook his head.

"All I know is this: I'm Death, she's twelve, and she's not dying today."

Tessa said nothing. How could she respond to that? How could Max?

Max should have felt happy at that moment, inspired as his brother fought against fate, and seemed to win, as the little girl was pronounced cured by the doctors. Instead, all he felt was foreboding.

"_You can't fight this Max, you can't fight destiny."_

They went to work again, this time taking people who _had_ lived their lives.

They were about to leave when some one was brought in from an ambulance.

It was the nurse from before, who had been with the little girl Dean had refused to take.

She was dying.

"You knew this would happen," Dean said.

"No," Tessa replied. "I just knew you knocked over a domino. You disrupted the natural order Dean, and this is going to keep happening until you take that little girl...and the nurse too."

Max watched in horror as Dean took Jolene, and Tessa explained her that she was dead, even though it was not her time. That she should have lived for decades more. Had children and grandchildren.

Tessa looked over at Dean. "But he screwed up."

"_You can't fight this Max, you can't fight destiny."_

Max watched as Jolene's husband cried over her dead body.

"_You can't fight this Max, you can't fight destiny."_

But what did that mean! Max was so lost in thought that he hadn't realized Dean had gone until Tessa said, "Where did he go?"

Max looked around the hospital room. Dean seemed to have disappeared in the blink of an eye.

_I guess they don't call him the __**Angel**__ of Death for nothing,_ Max thought sourly.

"Got him," Tessa said, then _she_ disappeared. She came back with Dean a second later.

"What are we doing back here? It's over, you took off the ring."

_Seriously? So we went through all of this for nothing?_

"Unfinished business," Dean replied.

"I thought you wanted her to skate by."

"No one skates by, not really."

_You can't fight this Max, you can't fight destiny._

Dean woke up the father, so he could say goodbye...then he took the girl.

* * *

Bobby's house was torn apart. The front door was off its hinges, there were burn marks all over the floor, and there was blood everywhere.

Max's body wasn't on the couch anymore, it was in Booby's room.

"What happened?" Max asked when he returned to the land of the living.

"You were right," Alex replied, then she made a face. "I never thought I would say that to _you_." She shook her head. "Sam discovered a spell that would keep a soul from entering his body, but he needed Bobby's blood to make it work."

"He tried to kill Bobby?"

Justin nodded. "He put up one hell of a fight too. He was able to counter a lot of our magic."

"Latin spells are stronger than most."

"We got him in the end," Justin continued. "He's locked in the panic room, Bobby's keeping watch."

"Were either of you hurt?" They shook their heads. "Okay. Thanks guys."

"Don't mention it."

Max heard Dean running down the stairs, yelling for Bobby to open up the panic room. The Russos stare at each other for a second, then race down after Dean.

The door to the panic room is opened, and Max stared as Death took Sam's soul and put it back in his body, Sam screaming all the while, until at last, he passed out. Then Death was gone.

Death had broken the rules, disrupted the natural order to bring Sam back. He defied fate, defeated

destiny.

But Death was Death, and Max was only human.

_Panting and gasping for breath, Max ran. He didn't know where he was going, he just knew he had to get as far away from here as possible, as far away from __**him **__as possible. Max knew that if he couldn't get away, he would never be himself again; everything he was would die._

_Max ran through the door. The angel with with his face followed._

"_You can't fight this, Max," he said. "You can't fight destiny."_

_Max closed his eyes as the holy fyre consumed him. _


	6. Touch of God

**Sorry it took so long. Please Review.**

* * *

"_If you wanted to kill your brother, you should have done it outright."_

Those words haunted Max. He had agreed with Cass. He had known that Dean's idea was stupid, that Death's answer to the question of Sam's tortured soul was temporary. He had known, that if the soul was placed back in Sam and the wall around the hellish memories it contained was broken, then Sam would suffer a fate worse than death.

And he let it happen anyway.

He tried to tell himself that he couldn't have known that the wall was so weak, that one trip down memory lane, one mission would be all it took to destroy the barriers around Sam's mind and give him back his memories of being tortured in Hell.

They should never have gone to Rhode Island.

But even then, he and Dean had known it could happen at any time. Even if they didn't know exactly when, they had _known._

It seemed as though every time they thought they had Sam was back, he went back into coma.

If there is a God, then he has a perverted sense of humor.

"ALEX!" Justin yelled as he fell prey to her latest prank, interrupting Max's thoughts. Try as he might, he couldn't stop the smile forming on his face; some things just never change.

At first, Max had resented their presence here. He hated that they were intruding on something that was his. Not theirs, _his_. They would outshine him again, and Sam Dean would forget all about him. Or they would do something stupid and get themselves killed.

But he had been wrong on both counts. Justin and Alex had proven themselves time and again. Justin was a walking compendium of knowledge. When paired with Sam, the necessary research was accomplished twice as fast. And he was a decent fighter, too. After a few lessons in Latin pronunciation, he'd become a deft spell-caster, though he still needed a wand to channel his magic.

Alex was born devious, and she took to tactics and strategy spectacularly. She could read and outmaneuver an enemy in seconds.

And Dean hadn't forgotten him. If anything, he'd grown closer to Max. With Sam comatose, Max was the only family Dean had left. Alex and Justin, for their part, readily accepted him, included him in conversations, told him stories about their past escapades. The Russo family had gained a new member, and Max had reconnected with his elder siblings.

Max noticed that Dean was smiling, too; he hadn't done that in days. Dean had found a kindred spirit in Alex, and often helped her torture Justin.

"What did you do this time?" he asked her.

"Not much," Alex replied, nonchalantly. I just replaced his shampoo with invisi-ink..."

Just then, Justin stormed out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his lower body...and completely bald.

He stopped short, having expected Dean to be in Sam's room and Max in his own, he was not ready to run into them.

There was a moment of silence...which was then replaced by uproarious laughter on the part of Max, Dean, and Alex.

"It's not funny!" Justin shouted.

Max wiped tears from his eyes.

"Come on, Fester," Dean said between chuckles. "It's a good look for you."

"How did his skin change color anyway?" Max asked.

Dean responded, "I _may_ have tinkered with the shower head..."

Catching on, Justin looked at his arm, and noticed for the first time that his skin had gone deathly pale; he was as white as an albino. He began to sputter uncontrollably.

"Uhbuthe-an-you-and-hair-grrr- DAHH!"

They laughed again.

Their moment of brevity was cut short, however, as Castiel entered. He stopped for a second to stare at Justin, cocking his head slightly, a mannerism that, Max noted, the angel had picked up from him.

Castiel stared for a moment or two, then asked, "Are you trying to make a statement of some kind?" That earned another round of chuckles, which only seemed to strengthen the angel's curiosity.

"How is he, Cass?" Dean asked before he could speak again.

"Unchanged," was the angel's reply. "His body remains unresponsive...as his soul burns."

_As his soul burns._

For some reason, those words stirred something inside Max. He was reminded of his self-perpetuating dream, his never-ending nightmare, where he burned to death at the hands of someone who looked too much like himself for comfort... but he couldn't worry about that now, not when his family suffered.

It took some doing, but Max finally brought his mind back to the present. Cass was speaking again.

"I'm sorry, Dean," he said. "But his trauma is beyond my skill to heal."

And with that he was gone, leaving sorrow where before, for a brief, shining moment, there had some semblance of happiness.

"Killjoy," Alex muttered.

That got a smile out of everyone.

* * *

"You're sure?" Dean asked, for about the hundredth time.

"Yes," Justin replied, also for about the hundredth time. "The signs are all there; these are definite plague killings, the second piece of the Staff of Moses has to be there."

"Well, that figures. I never did like Mickey Mouse..."

* * *

"It's not my fault!" Justin shouted as they returned to the motel, the second piece of the Staff of Moses in tow. "I could've taken them, if _someone_ hadn't replaced my wand with an imitation..."

"Stuff it," Max said. "You can only kill angels with an archangel blade, and after tonight's performance, there's _no way_ you're getting one of those."

"You should stick to explosives," Alex said jokingly.

"It was a good thing Max was there to pull us out of our collective ass," Dean said.

"All in all though," Alex mused. "I say that this is a definite Russo victory."

"Come again?" I did most of the work!"

"Maybe, But Max and I finished them off."

Dean muttered something unintelligible.

"What was that?" Alex asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously, her hand tightening around her wand.

"Nothing," Dean said quickly. "Anyone up for burgers?"

"Guys," Max said, tensing up suddenly. "There's someone here."

They stared at each other for a moment, then raced to Sam's room.

Sure enough, there was someone there, with his back to them; his fingers were on Sam's forehead.

Something about him seemed familiar to Max, as if he'd seen the man somewhere else before... but he wouldn't know for sure until the intruder turned around.

"Hey!" Dean yelled. He received no response. He charged at the man just as he dissipated, his body having turned to smoke.

"What the hell was that!" Dean yelled...

...Just as Sam opened his eyes.


	7. Soul 4 Sale

**Please Review. The reference to the "All about You-niverse" episode is also a reference to another one of my stories, "The Enchanted Mirror."**

* * *

"Sammy?" Dean asked, his voice going up an octave or two.

Sam raised himself up and swung his feet off his bed to get into a sitting position. He let his eyes roam over the motel room, from the peeling wallpaper to the stained carpeting. His eyes stopped when he reached the Russos. He cocked his head to his side, almost as though he was trying to decide where he'd seen them before.

He moved on, his eyes settling on his older brother.

"Dean," Sam said, relief saturating his voice. The Winchesters embraced then, reunited at long last.

"We thought you were gone, man," Dean said.

"So did I," Sam replied. Then he looked confused. "We?"

Max chose that moment to speak. "Hi, Sam."

Sam got that confused look again as he studied Max, Alex, and Justin. He turned to his brother.

"Who are they?"

With those three words, Max melted inside. The man he had come to consider a brother didn't know who he was anymore.

"Who, them?" Dean asked, a smile on his face. "Just a couple of man-witches." Alex cleared her throat. "And a not-man-witch."

It was the wrong thing to say.

Before Max could even react, Sam had charged at him and pinned him up against the wall.

Alex and Justin,wands drawn, were about to cast their respective spells when Dean stepped in front of them, obstructing their view of his brother.

Ignoring their protests, Dean grabbed hold of Sam, spun him around violently, and pinned _him_ against the wall.

"What the hell, Dean!" Sam protested. Dean said nothing, he had a grim expression on his face. After a moment of tense silence, the elder Winchester spoke, his eyes never leaving Sam's face.

"You alright, Max?"

"Been better," Max croaked out as he massaged his neck. "But I'll live."

Dean turned at the sound of Max's voice; Sam had done more damage then he thought. Alex was on Max's left, whispering things he could not make out, and Justin was on his left, rubbing his back in an effort to console him.

Dean wondered briefly why that was necessary...then he noticed the tears on Max's face. He also noticed that neither Justin nor Alex had pocketed their wands; they were dangling loosely from their fingers.

They weren't just comforting Max: They were _shielding_ him.

"What the hell is wrong with you!"

"With _me_?" Sam tries to break free of Dean's hold with little success. "They're _wizards,_ Dean!"

"They're good guys."

"Bullshit."

Dean looked at his brother, his expression shifting from angry to confused, then worried.

"You don't remember, do you?"

"Remember what?" Sam asked, annoyed.

"You see that kid you almost choked to death?" Dean eased up so Sam could turn his head.

When Sam nodded, Dean continued. "That's Max. He's a wizard, and he's been working with us for over a year."

Sam said nothing.

"It's thanks to him that we were able to get the Spear of Longinus and the Staff of Moses before Raphael and his idiots did. The two next to him, those are Alex and Justin, his brother and sister. They joined up with us after demons attacked their house.

"You don't remember any of this?"

"Not at all."

Dean let him go then, muttering, "Damn."

* * *

"Can I ask you something?" Max asked as Castiel examined Sam in the other room.

"Sure," Alex replied.

"How did you get out of the mirror?" Max was thinking back to the time when Alex had stepped through the enchanted mirror in the lair, and she become trapped on the side, while an Alex doppelganger walked around the Russo household.

"Mom, Justin, and Harper put the mirror back together, and I was able to step through to get home." Alex thought for a moment, then asked, "How did you know about that? You were the size of a mouse at the time."

Max, deciding to have some fun with them, replied, "I know a lot of things." He smiled at them.

After moments of uncomfortable silence, Alex and Justin step further away from each other.

Castiel and Dean walk into the room as Max laughs. Dean raises an eyebrow at the elder Russos' rigid posture.

"He's fine."

"Are you kidding me? He's missing over a year's worth of memories, Cass. Don't tell me he's fine."

"Dean, he's fine. As in _whole_."

"Come again?"

"Sam's soul is completely unscathed."

"What, like wiped clean?"

Castiel nodded. "As though Michael and Lucifer never touched it."

"But I thought that wasn't possible," Max interjected.

"It isn't." Castiel replied. "No demon, no angel possesses the kind of power such a healing requires."

"Then who does?" Dean demanded.

Castiel said nothing. In fact, he wasn't even in the room anymore.

"I hate when he does that," Sam said, stepping into the room.

"How are you?" Dean asked.

"Other than the fact that I just had my insides torched...fine."

Max's mind drifted as Sam and Dean talked. He looked over at Justin, who also looked deep in thought. Justin caught his look, and in that moment they both knew they were thinking the same thing: could that man they had seen in Sam's room, who had touched him for the briefest of moments...could that have really been _God?_

* * *

They were in trouble. Castiel had gotten that Raphael's goons had found Balthazar, and were planning on ambushing him and "persuading" him to give up the location of the remaining divine weapons.

To that end, Castiel teleported the five of them to the place where the trap was set to spring.

"You're kidding right?" Sam had commented. "An abandoned warehouse? How cliché is that?"

"But isn't that why it works?" Justin asked. "Because everyone assumes no one is stupid to do something so obvious?"

By the time the six of them, the Russos, the Winchesters, and Cass, had gone into the warehouse, the battle was already in full swing.

Balthazar had killed three of the enemy angels, his blade slick with crimson, the blue, pulsating runes stained with the ichor of a human vessel.

Another of the angels fell by Castiel's blade. Alex was casting warding spells,trying to shield Balthazar from the others. Sam and Dean were sharing one of the archangel blades. Max was battling bladeless, having lent his to Justin. Instead he had cut himself, and hastily drawn the angelic sigil that could banish an angelic presence. Justin, while learning and proficient in basic Latin spells, knew very little of advanced Latinate magic, and the Winchesters didn't know enough of magic to manipulate the sigil, lessen it and twist it so that it targeted those you _wanted_ to send away.

But Max knew, and he used that knowledge to his advantage.

But even the combined spellwork of two Russos, and the knife work of two hunters, another Russo, and an angel wasn't enough.

Balthazar screamed in pain as one of the archangel blades pierced through Alex's wards and bit flesh.

But something strange happened. Balthazar's presence never left the human vessel. Instead, the light light seemed to seep out of it.

_His Grace..._ Max thought as he watched the enemy angels collect it into a tiny jewel. _God's Word given power, made manifest._

If Raphael's cronies were willing to kill Balthazar and settle for his Grace, it could only be because Raphael had plans for it.

And that couldn't be good for Cass.

The others were busy with their own battles

Max charged ahead, challenging the angel bearing the jewel containing Balthazar's grace.

"Justin!" Max yelled. "Wand!" Justin threw him his wand. The moment Max caught it, he channeled his magic into it. The wand grew, elongating itself into a staff, meeting the angel's blade with an audible _thunk._

Max threw the staff away then, and the embedded archangel blade with it.

They fought hand to hand then. Blocking the angel's right arm with his left, Max was able to steal the jewel away.

The angel kicked Max so hard that he went flying. He landed hard on the concrete, glass shards biting into his hands as the jewel shattered.

_The Grace..._

The Grace moved fluidly, ephemerally through the air.

It moved towards Max.

It seeped into him through his pores.

And he was burning. He screamed.

"Max!" Justin yelled, but his voice sounded so far away to the younger Russo.

_It's like my dream,_ thought, as he was engulfed by burning, searing pain. _I tried to step through the flames, but they consumed me; they devoured me._

He screamed again.

"Put it out!" he cried. "Put it out!"

"Put what out, Max?" Sam asked worriedly.

_What the- how can they not see the flames!_

Through the haze of pain, Max lifted his arm and saw that there were no flames.

There were no flames, and yet he was burning.

He screamed.


	8. Lazarus

**I am SO sorry this took so long. My laptop crashed, so I had to write this up from memory, then re-write it so it tied in to the supernatural season finale.**

* * *

From the moment the Grace was absorbed into his body, pain became Max's new reality, his constant companion. The angelic presence coursed through him, seared and burned as it devoured his soul, tearing through him with a staggering intensity.

The pain was so great that it forced Max unconscious. He looked forward to the blackouts, as they promised a small reprieve from feeling, from the screams that made him hoarse...from facing his family as they watched on in helpless concern.

Those never lasted long.

Sam and Dean visited rarely, as they still had hunting duties to fulfill. But when they did visit, they stayed for hours at a time. Alex and Justin never left, forgoing hunting, choosing to stay with their brother.

Max appreciated the gesture, but wished they wouldn't stay. They couldn't help him; Justin, Bobby, and yes, even Alex, had spent innumerable hours researching. But from the little Max's pain-hazed mind could understand of Justin's explanations, he was the first human in recorded history to have absorbed the Grace: they were at a loss.

Alex and Justin could do nothing but stand there and watch Max suffer. He wished they would leave. They didn't have to stay. He didn't _want_ them to stay: no one should have to suffer his pain.

Castiel knew this. He understood it.

The angel never visited.

* * *

The months pass by, and Max would not have been aware of their passage, if Justin didn't take it upon himself to make him aware of the date. Some days the pain would lessen, and other days, it would flare, causing him to struggle and chafe himself against his restraints.

He was blacking out more often, only now, he could see things. He would dream of his brother and sister's faces, and they would fade away, and no matter how hard he tried to go after them, they disappeared. He saw the Winchesters, dead and broken. He saw himself, garbed in black and cloaked in fire. He was transparent; where his heart should be, there was nothing. Where his soul should be, there was light, so bright that it blinded every other aspect of himself.

He saw Cass...and he had Fallen.

And then Max would wake, and he would be granted a few precious moments of peace in which he would thank god (whoever he might be)...before the pain started again, and then there was no thought, no musing, only a plea he no longer possessed the strength to say aloud: _Please, God, no more._

* * *

The pain was gone for the moment, and Max breathed a sigh of relief as exhaustion consumed him. Alex was sitting by his side. Smiling down at him, she took his hand and clasped it in hers.

Depending on his mood, such a gesture would usually bring a smile out of him, or a frown, or _something._

But he felt nothing.

_What's happening to me?_ Max wondered as his eyes closed and he drifted off.

_**Don't you know? **_A voice suddenly asked.

Max was surprised. That had never happened in his stupors before. He only had images, never sound.

But that voice was so _familiar_. He _knew_ he'd heard it somewhere before.

_Who are you?_

The voice chuckled. _**A friend.**_

_If you were a friend, you would tell me who you are._

_**You know I am, Max. **_

_No, I-_

_**How's Sam?**_

Max was taken aback by that question. Then he realized something.

_It was you, wasn't it? You healed Sam's soul... is my soul dying?_

_**Yes.**_

_Why?_

_**I have plans for the Winchesters, Max, and you as well.**_

_What kind of plans?_

_**That will be revealed in time. You have other, more pressing matters at hand.**_

_**Castiel has Fallen.**_

Max thought back to his visions. And suddenly, his head was filled with new ones. Castiel striking a bargain with Crowley for half the souls in Purgatory, keeping Crowley hidden from the five of them. Castiel betraying Crowley and absorbing _all_ the damned souls, giving him the strength of a god.

Castiel demanding that Sam and Dean bow to him, their _new_ God.

_**Castiel has broken his covenant, and as we speak, is rampaging through Heaven, mercilessly killing Raphael's followers...and his own, when they refused to acknowledge him. **_

_**Chaos is running rampant; Castiel is tearing existence apart at the seams.**_

Max was stunned. He'd known that Heaven had been divided between Raphael and Castiel, between those who wanted to bring about the apocalypse and those who wanted to preserve the new order.

But what had made him desperate enough to turn to Crowley for assistance? Why couldn't he turn to his friends? Why had he lied?

_**I had high hopes for Castiel...those hopes are now passed down to you.**_

_Me?_

_**You can stop Castiel from destroying everything he and the Winchesters worked for.**_

_Why me?_

_**Because you're innocent. Despite your...less than traditional home life, and your issues with brother and sister overshadowing you, you still managed to believe in magic. Despite all you've been through as a hunter, you've never stopped believing that things will get better.**_

_**Heaven can use someone like you.**_

That stirred something in Max, a feeling of deja vu, though he didn't know why.

_If I do this, will you fix me? Will you heal my soul?_

_**No.**_

_Why?_

_**Angels don't need souls, Max.**_

Max opened his eyes, and he registered a small gasp as he stood from the bed, his restraints falling away. But he didn't care about that.

The pain was gone.


	9. A Test of Faith

**Please Review.**

* * *

Dean woke first, as he often did. He blinked his eyes a few times, trying to get rid of the haziness that had plagued them for the last few weeks.

Had it really only been that long? He didn't know anymore.

Time was hard to mark when you're trying to resist torture.

Castiel rarely showed up here, choosing instead to spend most of his time in Heaven, _"Punishing those who have sinned,"_ as he'd phrased it. Crowley, however, visited regularly. Dean wouldn't be too surprised if they were in one of his warehouses. He kept trying to _persuade_ Sam and Dean to acknowledge Castiel as the new God, himself the new Devil, trying to _convince_ them to accept the new order.

Fat chance of that ever happening. Crowley was decent when it came to torture, but Dean had endured far worse at the hands of Alistair, while he had been in Hell. And God only knows what Sam went through while he was in the cage with Michael and Lucifer.

_Sam._

Sam lay a few feet across from Dean, shackled to the wall as he was. He wasn't moving.

"Sam?" he asked, trying to rouse him. "You there?"

Sam groaned in response. "Barely."

Dean acknowledged _that_ sentiment with a grunt of his own. He was starting to think that he wasn't all there either. How could he be, when he was hearing voices? Well, _one _voice, technically. It promised that help was coming, that all he and Sam had to do was endure.

It told him that they weren't alone.

Then, as quickly as the voice had come into his head, it disappeared.

Soon after that, Crowley came back with Chuck, beaten and looking like all kinds of hell. Castiel appeared then, looking skeptical.

"Him?" he'd asked the demon incredulously. "You are certain?" After Crowley's affirmative, Castiel merely stared at the prophet, completely ignoring Sam and Dean.

"Pathetic." Castiel had commented. Chuck, in a rare show of courage, withstood the angel's glare, countering it with one of his own.

Chuck was laying next to Sam now. He hadn't moved or said a word for some time.

Dean still couldn't wrap his mind around what Cass had done. He'd thought of Cass as family, as a _brother_, and he had betrayed them. Lied to them. Lied to _him_. And now, Cass had handed them over to Crowley.

Dean wondered about that. Why had he bothered keeping them alive? Why not just kill them?

Why did he raise Sam from Hell? Dean wanted to believe that it was because despite all that he had said and done recently, Castiel did consider them family, that some small part of the angel was still _there_, among the souls of the damned.

"Good morning, sunshine," Crowley said as he entered the room, a small, wicked smile on his face. Dean said nothing in reply. He knew that a retort would just amuse the bastard, and he wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

The demon decided he'd start with Sam today. The moment the shackles fell away, Sam tried to fight back, but was quickly disabled: he wasn't in any shape to be fighting.

As Sam was dragged away, Dean thought about Max, and his brother and sister. When he and Sam had left, Max was still strapped to the bed in Bobby's panic room. He didn't know if he had gotten better or worse. He didn't if he and Alex and Justin were safe anymore.

He wondered whether or not Cass had gotten to them as well. He hoped not.

He closed his eyes as the screams began.

For the first time in his life, Dean prayed.

* * *

The screaming stopped. There were sounds of a fight taking place on the other side of the door. Dean held back a yell of surprise as Crowley was thrown back into the room, colliding with the steel door and the back wall.

He was even more surprised when he saw Max step through the open doorway, followed by Alex and Justin...and Sam, looking as good as new.

_What the hell?_

"You shouldn't swear, Dean." Max moved over to Chuck's prone form, examining him for a moment.

"Freaky, isn't it?" Justin asked, catching Dean's expression. He's been doing that a lot lately."

"Mind reading?"

"Among other things." Dean raised an eyebrow, but Justin didn't elaborate.

Max placed two of his fingers on Chuck's forehead. The latter groaned as he regained consciousness.

"Max," he said tiredly. "What took you so long?"

Max stared at Chuck. He _knew_ that voice. He'd heard it often enough these past few weeks.

And suddenly, he knew. Chuck was looking at him now, and an understanding seemed to pass between them.

"Sorry about that," Max said, smiling. "We had to find the place first, and I'm still not used to the teleportation thing, and this body is _heavy_."

Chuck smiled back. "Well, you made it, that's what matters."

"Wait a second," Sam interjected, pointing between the two of them. "You knew they were coming?"

"Uh, yea," Chuck retorted. "Prophet, remember?"

"You could have clued us in, you know," Dean said, as Alex freed him from his chains.

"Yeah...about that. I meant to, really, but I was a little busy being unconscious at the time."

"Hold on," Sam said, turning to Max. "When did you get better? And that thing about your body?"

Alex answered before Max could. "We shouldn't do this here."

"She's right," Max added. "Castiel is coming."

"How do you know that?"

Max didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed one of Sam and Dean's hands while Alex and Justin grabbed the other, and Chuck placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Max, what the hell is-" Dean stopped short as he realized that they were back at Bobby's.

"Took you long enough," Bobby said.

"It took longer than expected to take care of the sentries," Max explained. "Again, still getting used to all of it."

"All of _what,_ Max?" Sam asked.

Max sighed. "You guys might want to sit down for this." He hadn't been speaking for more than a minute when Dean interrupted him.

"Back up for a minute. You're telling me that the Big G tapped you to be an _angel? You_?"

"It surprised me, too, believe me."

And so it continued.

Max told them about the voice he'd heard in his head while he'd been suffering through the transformation, which he had come to conclude was the voice of God. Dean seemed to want to say something at this, but was silenced by a glare from Alex.

He remembered waking up, the first thing he registered being that he no longer felt any pain. And the voice was in his head again, guiding him, teaching him what he needed to know. He spent the next week or so getting accustomed to his new abilities: teleporting, exorcising demons, and the like. When he finally felt confident in his ability, Max had Justin pinpoint their exact location, and teleported there. The rest was history.

"But that doesn't make sense," Sam said.

"How?"

"Angels don't have bodies, Max. They're beings of pure light. They need a soul to anchor them here, a vessel. And you still look like you."

Max smiled. "This is my vessel."

Silence.

"My dad told me once that magic binds the universe. And magic, like anything else, requires balance."

"You remember that?" Alex asked.

"Despite the popular theory, I _do_ pay attention during wizard lessons."

"Oh."

Max continued. "For every person born, there is another person who is their exact opposite, spiritually speaking. Genetically, they are exactly the same."

"Like running into your double in the street one day, even though you're not blood-related?" Sam asked.

"Exactly," Max replied. "This is the body of a boy named Jake. He has consented to be my vessel."

"Can you still use magic?" Dean asked.

"No. Magic runs in the blood. I don't have blood of my own anymore."

Sam asked, "So when you said your body was heavy...?"

"I'm a being of light now. Well, technically, I _am _light. So yes, wearing this skin has made me considerably heavier."

Sam nodded, taking the information in. He looked over at Bobby, Alex, and Justin. "You three don't look too surprised."

"We'd already heard the story," Alex told him.

"Wait, you said you had Justin find us? Why couldn't _you_ do it? Cass can..." Sam trailed off, realizing what that implied.

"Like, I said, I'm still new to the angel thing," Max replied. "As for Cass, I'm expecting him any second now."

"Do you have a plan?" Chuck asked.

Max looked at him for a moment, then said, "Like you don't already know."

Dean looked at Max, then Chuck, then Max again. "Are we missing something here?"

Chuck merely smiled.

Max tensed. "Get to the panic room. _Now."_

Alex didn't like that suggestion. "Max, we'll fight with you."

"This isn't up for discussion. This is between the three of us." Max smiled. "But I appreciate the thought." The next thing she knew, she, Justin, Bobby, and the Winchesters were back in the panic room.

"Guys," Justin said, getting everyone's attention. "Did he say the _three_ of us?"

* * *

"You could have just told me, you know," Max told Chuck as they waited for the inevitable. "Instead of playing these games."

Chuck smiled. "But if I just told you everything, how would you _learn?_"

Max chuckled. "Sam and Dean don't know?"

"No."

"Doesn't Dean have a necklace that's supposed to burn in your presence?"

"I'm _God,_ Max. I can bend the rules, if I feel like it."

"You and I are going to talk when this is over." Max looked over at Chuck. "I know where you live."

Chuck laughed. A real laugh, not the nervous one the Winchesters were used to. "If it makes you feel better, then fine."

The house began to shake. "Are you ready?" Chuck asked.

Max nodded. "As I'll ever be."

A blinding light filled the room. As it dimmed, Castiel became visible. They didn't wait for him to speak. Max lit a match and threw on the ground in front of the would-be god. Holy fyre instantly surrounded him.

Castiel laughed. "Fools. I am God, this no longer has any power over me." But as he tried to leave the circle of flames, Castiel was burned. He screamed in pain the fyre arched up his arm, through his chest, and into his soul.

"You are not God," Castiel," Chuck said. "_I am_."

"You abandoned us!" Castiel screamed, still lanced with pain. "You abandoned _me!_ How many times did I pray to you, _beg_ for your guidance? How many times were my prayers left unanswered? I did my best with the options _you_ left me!

"I am a better God than you ever were."

"You are no god, Castiel. If you were, these flames could not hold you prisoner."

"The blade-"

"-Did not kill you because it was not designed to. It kills beings, not souls.

"You had other options, Castiel. You should have gone to Dean. He would have helped you; he would have shown you the right path."

"Dean betrayed me."

"Only after you betrayed him. I ignored your prayers because I wanted to see how you had grown, what you had learned in your time here. I had so many hopes for you, Castiel. You were supposed to be my general, the leader of my angels, now that Michael is in the cage; my newest archangel.

"You chose to place your trust in a demon, instead of the man who thought of you as family. This was a test of faith, Castiel: you failed."

Chuck strode through the flames to stand in the circle with Castiel. He thrust his arms into the angel's body, causing him to scream out in more pain.

Max stepped into the flames, and was left untouched. Castiel saw this, and was afraid.

"You too?" he asked. "I thought you were my friend, Max."

Max looked at Cass-

_No, he's not Cass anymore. He was overshadowed, consumed by the souls he absorbed._

"If I remember correctly, you severed those ties." Max spoke again, this time, his voice was a perfect match for Castiel's. _"You're not my family_."

Max held out the jar he was holding, catching the souls as they burst of Castiel's body.

As the final soul was extracted, Castiel lurched forward, unto Chuck's outstretched arms.

Chuck removed his hands from Castiel's body, then placed one over his head. There was a bright light, and as Chuck moved his hand away, an essence came with it, which he placed into the jar before placing a top on it.

At Max's confused expression, Chuck said, "He has much to atone for."

Chuck took the jar from Max, and snapped his fingers. The flames disappeared, and Bobby's living room was as good as new.

"I'm taking these back to Purgatory," Chuck said. "I want you to take Jimmy back to his family."

"Jimmy?"

"Castiel's vessel."

"Ok. Wait!" Max yelled as Chuck was about to dissipate. "What happens now?"

"What do you mean?"

"The Winchesters are a man down now, and I can't exactly go home, can I?"

Chuck smiled. "The Winchesters still have their angel, Max, and two wizards to boot. And you shouldn't worry about your family. They'll be fine."

"You'll forgive me if I don't find that reassuring."

Chuck let out a small chuckle. "Just have faith, Max," he said, then disappeared.


	10. Archangelus

"How are things in Heaven now?" Sam asked. "It must be quiet, with Castiel in Purgatory."

Max shrugged. "Things are more or less stable. They were surprised when they saw that I was elevated to Archangel. It's mine by right, as I am am one of the five who have seen the face of God, but Raphael had some particluar things to say about it."

"Gabriel had a right laugh; he thought it was hilarious."

Both the Winchesters started at this. Justin and Alex merely looked confused.

"Cass killed Raphael," Sam argued.

"And Lucifer killed Gabriel," Dean added.

Max shook his head. "Only Raphael's vessel was destroyed. And Castiel was not the only angel God revived."

"Waiit," Alex said, catching on quicker than her older brother. "When did you see God?"

"And how the hell is Raphael still allowed in Heaven?" Dean asked.

"God came to me when I faced off against Cass," Max replied, sighing. "He was disappointed. When Lucifer was thrown back into the Cage, Michael with him, the Archangels were two down."

"Michael and Gabriel," Sam said, nodding.

"But what does that have to do with anything?" Justin asked, finally catching up.

"After the Apocalypse was averted, God hoped to make Cass an Archangel, in place of Michael." Max let that sink in, then continued. "But then he fell, and God chose me in his place."

Silence greeted this pronouncement. Max continued. "Raphael was allowed back into Heaven because he repented. He isn't stupid enough to fight God. Now the the Archangels are whole again."

"So Raphael isn't making trouble anymore?" Dean asked.

"No, he's being a good boy. Even with God 'out of town,' so to speak, he knows we're watching him."

"God's gone?" Justin asked, intrigued.

"He's decided to take a vacation. And before you ask Dean, he is _not _Morgan Freeman."

"If he's taking a vacation, who's he left in charge?" Alex wondered.

Max smiled.

* * *

"Are you sure?" Dean asked.

Justin nodded. "It'll be there."

"What are we going after again?"

"The Blade of Anarchy," Max replied. "It's a dagger capable of killing the Fates."

"Are there any more after this?"

"No, we've already recovered the rest of the missing weapons; this is the last one." Max looked over at his brother and sister. "You guys going to be okay on your own?"

Alex rolled her eyes. "Yes, Max. Go do what you need to."

"Besides," Sam said, smiling. "They've got us."

"And I've been taking monster hunting courses at Wiztech!" Justin proclaimed.

Dean raised an eyebrow.

"It's a school for wizards," Justin explained.

"So it's Hogwarts?"

Certainly not!" Justin was affronted.

"You learn spells there?"

"Yes..."

"You wear uniforms?"

"Yes..."

"You have a sport?"

"Yes..."

"It's Hogwarts," Dean declared. Justin began to babble incoherently. Max laughed as he disappeared.

As he materialized in the clearing, Max made sure the Angel Blade was clear in the sheath at his wrist.

* * *

He heard something growl behind him. He smiled.

"I know I'm a bit late," he said, turning to face the God Hound. "I was busy."

The wolf, for his part, said nothing in return. It merely sat back on its haunches, waiting.

Max stared back at his new partner. When Chuck had told him that he would be partnering with werewolves, he'd had his doubts. And he wasted no time voicing them.

But time had proved his doubts to be unfounded. And they weren't werewolves exactly, as they didn't need the moon to transform. According to Chuck, these God Hounds had served Heaven for centuries.

And Max had grown to trust this particular wolf even though he had yet to see his human form.

"Look, it won't happen again, okay, Fido?" The wolf growled, he didn't like it when the angel called him that. Max only smiled.

Together, the angel and the God Hound made their way into the occultists' hideout.

Max had received word weeks ago that they were trying to break Lucifer out of his Cage, effectively bringing on the Apocalypse a second time. Max had no idea _ how _they were planning to do it, but it was worth checking out.

He wasn't expecting to come upon _another_ God Hound, muzzled, bound and bleeding, laying within a summoning circle. He was surrounded by six occultists, five at certain points within the circle, and one in the dead center, with the God Hound.

"What do you think, sneaky or direct?" Max asked softly. The wolf growled in response, alerting the others to their presence. He charged.

Max rolled his eyes. "I don't know why I still ask."

Max threw himself into the battle, and realized immediately that the occultists were demons.

Good. That made things easier.

_THWUNCK!_

His blade hit the mark, and the demon fled its host. The wolf was holding his own with two, which left him with three.

One of the demons charged him, and Max summoned the power of his Grace, concentrating into the center of his palm. With one touch, palm to forehead, the demon was expelled from the host body.

Max made quick work of the other two, and he came to face with something he hadn't expected to see.

The demon that been in the center of the circle approached him calmly, and Max was confused. He didn't _feel_ right for a demon.

The demon pulled out a katana, and surged forward. Max dodged the blows as they came. Angel or not, it wouldn't do to get hit with a sword, especially one that was most likely bespelled.

He heard the wolf growl, and he risked a glance. He was holding the Angel Blade in his mouth. He twisted and threw the weapon.

Max caught it, and used it to parry.

The demon attacked from above. Max brought his blade up, blocking the move, then pushed forward.

Pushing the blade forward down the sword, Max used the momentum to step closer. When within arm's reach, Max reached out his arm. The demon was paralyzed, and Max was able to enter his mind.

His name was Malakai.

_He's a meldling_, Max realized. Neither human nor demon, and yet both. _Who would willingly join souls with a demon?_

"Free the Hound!" Max told his partner as he prepared a seal of binding. He could use the summoning circle as part of the seal. He didn't know how to kill it, but he would make sure it never left here, that it would be bound.

"You killed my servants, tossed them aside like dolls," the meldling snapped, when the seal was done and he was caged. "What are you?"

"I am an Angel of the Lord," Max replied, then he disappeared.


End file.
